EATERS OF ROW MEAT
Ian Curtis’ s voice
System of Down
I am a Bird Now and Antony & the Jonsons
Music of Philip Glass
Lars Von Trier’ s movies
Alvar Aalto’ s designe
Andō Tadao and Norman Foster architectural style
Gil Elvgren’s pin-up girls
Kat Von D
I love red and black
And Marina Abramović
What am I doing so far, in the north? In the small, lonely red painted wooden house, ringed by icebergs and dogs howling.
On the Atlantic coast. In Greenland.
Far from everything that has defined me, far from the place I grew up, far from all what I was used to knew, what I was taught to interpret.
I look at my watch. Ring with the image of Warhol’s Marylyn Monroe. Red lipstick on my lips. The smell of perfume. Because I’m not me anymore. Now I’m somebody else. Someone who is thinking about glaciers. Who knows who was Knud Rasmussen. Who knows Beathe and Sarah. Someone attached by the midnight sun and the lazy Greenlandic days. Someone who is able to wash up with almost no water, to take a shower for one minute.
Are white, shiny icebergs made me different? Will I be someone else until re-board the plane to Copenhagen?
Suddenly, I heard unfamiliar sound.
Icebergs, felt through the ice into frigid waters. In front of red wooden house of Fairytales. On the coast. In Greenland, the land of dog sleds and Eric the Red. In Upernavik. On top of the world, at 72 degrees north. In isolated island, with white floating icebergs and grey and black rocks. Among Inuit stories and people raised in traditional hunting culture, adapted to the extreme living conditions.
In July. When the sun does not leave the sky, leaving me completely in charge of day and night. In springtime place, where eaters or row meat, respecting the demons of the nature, when the ice broke up, used to come to trade and to fish seals and walruses.
From the Eaters of row meat by Ljiljana Maletin 2013.